Heron Lake Plateau you should see me in a crown

the air was sharp and brittle as mictec stood at the edge of the plateau, her breath curling in soft tendrils against the cold. before her, the vast lake stretched wide and glassy, its frozen surface shimmering beneath the pale winter sun. patches of frost-covered wetlands framed its edges, tangled brush and reeds rising like sentinels from the frozen ground. the herons were fewer now, their numbers thinned by the season, but their cries still echoed faintly across the still expanse, haunting and lonely.  

mictec’s marigold eyes scanned the horizon, where migrating herds clustered near the lake’s southern edge. their bodies moved in quiet rhythm, their survival etched into every cautious step and every wary glance at the open expanse. the plateau offered both bounty and danger—water to sustain life and a predator’s paradise.  

her stomach groaned softly, hunger a gentle nibble as winter had made prey scarce, but she remained motionless. this place was alive with stories, etched into every footprint in the snow, every broken reed swaying against the breeze. to act without thought here would be folly. she needed a plan, something that would ensure her survival without drawing the wrath of other predators who might also be watching.  

her gaze settled on a small herd of elk clustered near the frozen shallows, their breath fogging the air as they drank. she crouched low, the skeletal patch on her face blending with the snow, and let the silence of the plateau surround her. mictec would wait for the right moment—patient as the winter itself, her marigold eyes never leaving the herd.

It had been too long since he’d last had a proper meal. Hunger gnawed at his ribs, a constant reminder of how unforgiving the wilds could be. Ker was still adjusting to the harshness of solitude, and with every empty day, he cursed his isolation and aimless wandering.

Tonight, that would change. He would hunt. It would give him purpose.

Nose to the wind, he followed the mingling scents of prey, his senses sharpening as he approached the plateau. The frozen lake glistened in the distance, mesmerizing in the sunlight, but he refused to be distracted. Crouched low, he moved with quiet precision, his steps measured as he stalked the small herd of elk grazing ahead.

His earthen pelt stood out against the snowy expanse, but he was no stranger to the art of the hunt. He knew how to move unseen, how to blend with the shifting shadows. He waited, breath held, muscles coiled, watching for the perfect opening.

He did not yet realize that he was not the only predator lurking this frost-laden day. Unseen, an obsidian she-wolf mirrored his every move, just as patient, just as deadly.

<3

a soft breeze brought with it his scent. silent as the falling snow, mictec lingered in the periphery, watching—him, the herd, the shifting dance of predator and prey. the male moved with careful intent, but his hunger made him restless; she could see it in the way his muscles twitched beneath his pelt, in the way his breath ghosted too quick against the cold air. 

her eyes, sharp as a blade’s edge, drifted past him to the herd. the elk were wary but not yet alarmed, their huddled forms shifting, shuffling, seeking comfort in numbers. but even among them, weakness did not go unnoticed. 

there. 

a cow, older, favoring her left foreleg with every step. the limp was slight, but to the discerning eye, it was everything. 

mictec did not move immediately. Instead, she watched ker, curious whether he, too, had marked the same weakness. was he skilled enough to see it? or was he too lost in the desperation of his own hunger to hunt with patience? 

snow crunched as she took a slow, deliberate step forward, still hidden within the jagged brush. the hunt was beginning, but more than that—so was the test.

Keen eyes swept over the herd, searching for an opening. From his vantage point, the shifting mass of elk made it difficult to pick out weakness. Still, his focus remained unshaken. Healthy animals moved in steady rhythm—nothing, nothing, nothing. Then he caught it. A subtle hitch in one elk’s step, barely noticeable, but not to him.

That one.

He inhaled deeply, steadying his restless muscles before creeping forward. Every movement was deliberate, honed by years of practice. The herd grew uneasy, sensing the predator closing in. He had to be careful. Focused. Patient.

A few more silent steps. Then stillness.

And then, he struck.

A powerful burst of speed sent him hurtling toward the herd, jaws parting in a snarl. His presence sent the elk scattering, but his gaze locked onto the limping one. With snapping teeth and aggressive feints, he forced it away from the others. Separation was key. Necessary.

Now it was just the two of them.

The chase began, his quarry scrambling to put distance between them. But he was relentless, his pursuit unwavering.

The hunt was on.

mictec moved in perfect sync with the chaos, a silent force weaving through the snow. She did not rush. there was no need. the test had already begun, and she had already decided how it would end.  

the elk stumbled, its bad leg faltering beneath the weight of its own fear. that was all the proof she needed.  

with a sharp burst of speed, she lunged. not for the throat—that was ker’s kill to make. no, she aimed low, her fangs finding the tender flesh of the weakened leg. a precise, merciless bite. the elk buckled, its body twisting as it fought against inevitability.  

mictec released just as quickly as she struck, retreating a step, her breath curling in the cold. now, it was ker’s turn.  

would he take the opening she had carved for him? would he falter?  

marigold eyes flicked to him for only a fraction of a second, unreadable yet expectant. she had played her part. now, she would see if he could finish what they had started.

And take that opening he did. With a final lunge and a savage snap of his jaws, his teeth found purchase around the elk’s throat. White fangs sank into earthen flesh, the sharp tang of blood flooding his senses. He bit down hard, determined to end the creature’s suffering swiftly, there was no need for unnecessary torment.

Ker held firm, muscles tense, until the last shudder of life left the elk’s body. Only when he was certain it was over did he release, his breath heavy as he stood over the fallen beast. Crimson stained his muzzle, warm and fresh, as he took a moment to steady himself. Then, sensing another presence, he turned.

Hail. His voice was level, tinged with curiosity. I didn't realize I had company. I hope I'm not trespassing, I caught no scent of a pack here.

He ran his tongue over his maw, wiping away the worst of the blood before meeting the she-wolf’s gaze. And thank you for the assistance. You’ve got quite the skill, I respect that.

His copper eyes gleamed with quiet admiration as he studied her. There was no bravado in his words, only sincerity. I'm Ker. A pleasure to meet you.

mictec remained where she stood, poised yet at ease, watching the fresh spill of crimson seep into the snow. the scent of death was thick, but it was clean—necessary. efficient. her own muzzle bore only the faintest trace of blood, a testament to her measured approach.  

her gaze flicked up to meet his as he spoke, weighing his words, his stance, his intent. no arrogance, no unnecessary pride—only recognition. that, at least, was something she could respect.  

you listen well, she remarked, voice smooth as she stepped forward, the kill now fully in her shadow. you watch well. that will serve you.

she did not offer her name immediately, not yet. Instead, her gaze flicked once more to the elk. you were right to choose this one. a wound left unattended. time would have done the same, but time is slow, and hunger does not wait.

a pause, then the faintest tilt of her head. mictec, she finally offered, as if deciding only now that he was worth the name. and you are not trespassing. if you were, you would know.

a subtle test, a lingering question in the air—what will you do now, now that you have taken what you needed?

Ker hadn’t expected the compliment, but it was certainly welcome. He prided himself on his keen observation, his ability to track, and, when necessary, to kill efficiently. In his mind, that was all he was good for, well, that and a bit of witty banter.

Thank you, he said, his tone still genuine, still open. And you’re right. It was only a matter of time.

He studied her then, taking in the sleek obsidian of her pelt and the stark white marking that split across half her face. Some might have called it ominous, a harbinger of misfortune. But to him? It was fascinating.

Mictec, he murmured, testing the name on his tongue as though savoring its weight.

With a slight nod, he turned his attention back to the fallen elk at their feet. Since you aided in the kill, it’s only right you share in the meal. I am but one wolf, after all. His voice carried an uncharacteristic touch of consideration. Do you have others to feed? I’d hate to take a meal from those who may need it more.

A rare shift in demeanor, but not an unwelcome one.

He stepped closer to the carcass, lowering his head to take in the rich, metallic scent. It had been days since he’d last had a proper meal, prey was scarce in the winter, especially for a lone traveler. Hunger gnawed at him, but instinct kept him patient. If she had others to provide for, he would wait.